


Friends, Actually

by tell_tale_heart



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, rating is just for language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-07 00:17:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8775616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tell_tale_heart/pseuds/tell_tale_heart
Summary: In the days before Christmas, we get to see the intersecting lives of six separate people and how they experience Christmas.





	1. December 23rd

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a gift for [niefify](http://niefify.tumblr.com) as part of [#voltronss2k16](http://voltron-ss.tumblr.com) on Tumblr. 
> 
> To Niefify--This was fun to write! I tried to include as many items on your wishlist as I could. Also, the relationships here are very much background and the main focus is on the friendships in the story. I hope you like it and Merry Christmas!!
> 
> Fic note: I was inspired by the movie Love, Actually, which takes place near Christmas. But my main focus for this fic is the strengthening of bonds between friends and family.

**Keith**

It shouldn't have been much of a surprise, but the local shopping mall two days before Christmas was absolute mayhem. The parking lot was a disaster area, as cars circled around like vultures looking for a vacated spot. Once inside, Keith watched with wide eyes as people frantically shopped for last minute gifts, picking up random items only to put them down just as quickly.

He could relate all too well.

"You alright, bro?" Shiro's deep voice rumbled from beside him, pausing in his perusal of candles to look thoughtfully at his brother. Their mother had sent them out for a few items, in preparation for their family Christmas dinner. Every year, their house was immaculately decorated in a old-timey traditional Christmas style. This year, Keith had not managed to avoid his mother's day of decorating. Shiro had suspiciously  _somehow_ managed to come in just as they finished up, and Keith had seen Shiro silently doubling over in laughter at the pieces of decorations in his dark hair, the glitter on his face. 

"Yup," Keith said quickly, picking up a candle at random and smelling the fragrance. Ugh. The label revealed it to be 'Cherries on Snow.' He set it back down on the counter with a large thump. Who would ever buy such a horrid scent? He sighed quietly, casting a wide gaze around.

That same kind of frenzied panic that was quite obvious in shoppers all around them was rearing its ugly head in Keith's stomach. He had long since purchased gifts for his adoptive parents. The two of them were easy enough to shop for. But Shiro? That was another story entirely.

Shiro was off from work today, but would be back at work Christmas Eve and then off again the evening of Christmas day. His schedule as a rookie police officer was often demanding, but he sometimes had amusing stories to tell Keith and his parents when he would drop by the house for a dinner every now and then. Keith found that he missed his brother a lot, though he didn't ever vocalize the feeling. Talking about his feelings just wasn't anything he had ever done, choosing instead to internalize his struggles and fix his own problems.

He had been 5 or so when the Shiroganes had adopted him, and his life was forever changed when he met his 9 year old brother, Takashi Shirogane. Keith hadn't been inside his new home for 30 seconds when Shiro had welcomed him with open arms and a wide smile, crushing him in a hug. From then on out, they went on imaginary adventures together.  One day they were knights, rescuing a kingdom from a deadly dragon.  Another day they were lions, roaring and roaming a savanna. They did it all side by side, together.

Yet Keith still looked up to his brother. Taller and braver, Shiro was friends with every kid on the block. He was best at all the games, beat everyone in bicycle races. But did in a friendly way, without preening about in when he emerged as the victor.

Keith had wanted to be just like him.

But he wasn't, and in time, he learned that that was okay. He was his own person. But he never stopped looking up to his brother, admiring how good he was with people. Appreciating how much Shiro had done for him all these years. How since that day when he was welcomed into the Shirogane home, he had gained a best friend and a brother at the same.

He just wished he had a way of showing it.

But his presents always seemed woefully inadequate. For Shiro's last birthday, Keith had gotten him a gift card to his favorite clothing store. LAME. He was determined to do better for Christmas. But what to get Shiro was the question. Nothing seemed quite good enough.

Keith continued to look around, trying to fight off the panic.

 

* * *

 

 

**Lance**  

 

"Why are parents  _ just now _ getting their kids to take pictures with Santa?" Lance asked, genuinely confused but mostly frustrated.

"I dunno." Pidge shrugged. "I stopped trying to figure out the thought process of parents a long time ago, dude."

Lance sighed, taking a look at the line of children with their parents, eagerly waiting their turn for a minute or two with Santa. It was going to be a long, hellish kind of day. He probably wouldn't be able to take a second break to eat a Hot Pocket. Or two. This was definitely not the best winter break job to have, not by a long shot. But Hunk had somehow talked both Pidge and him into it, saying something about how it “would be so much fun!” and here they were. Surrounded by screaming and sometimes crying children.

"Next!" Pidge called as a giggly kid ran off to meet his parents, having finished telling Santa what he wanted for Christmas.

Lance successfully held back a roll of his eyes, moving forward to escort the next child forward toward Santa. He straightened his fake leather belt, a little too big on his lanky frame, even though it was fastened in the last notch. The "elf" shoes he had been given weren't the best fit either, so he kind of clomped awkwardly around in them as he walked. The entire outfit was not flattering at all, from the blue tunic and matching leggings to the jaunty cap with a bell on his head. At least Pidge, his fellow elf in crime, somewhat looked the part. She was shorter and had a smaller frame, and her carroty-orange hair complemented the green of her tunic. Lance sighed. He hoped to high heaven that none of the cute girls from his college classes ended up walking by and seeing him in such a ridiculous get up.

"Alright, kiddo, come with me," Lance said to the next child, a girl about 6 or 7 years old. She reached forward eagerly, latching onto his hand, her too-long fingernails digging into his skin. Ugh. But he did his job anyways, escorting her over to Santa.

"Ho ho ho!" Hunk called in a booming voice from behind his fake beard. "And what is your name?"

Lance kind of tuned out the conversation between Santa and child, bored out of his mind. At least the pay was semi-decent. His dark blue eyes gazed around the crowds of people that walked through the mall, eager for a distraction. That's when he saw him.

Mother effing Keith Kogane.

Lance exhaled through his nose, indignant. He  _ did not like _ that Kogane kid. At all. There was just something about him, and Lance couldn't quite put his finger on it, but it rubbed him the wrong way. Pidge and Hunk had their own opinion on the matter. "You're just jealous he gets the top grades in your classes" both of them have said on numerous occasions. Lance would splutter and deny it.

Yeah, sure, Lance had gotten straight A's throughout high school and that trend continued into the first year of college. But then  _ Keith _ had transferred in, and was part of Lance's program at school. Engineering. And Lance hadn't been number one anymore. For the last test they had taken before break, Lance had studied harder than ever. When he had received a notification that the class grades were posted on their school's online portal, his fingers had never moved as swiftly to look. But then he had just sat in his chair for a good few minutes, stunned.

 

_ Kog, Kei: 99 _

_ McC, Lan: 97 _

 

Eventually, his shock at having being bested again had melted into a slow, simmering anger. But it had taken a few days. Keith had cheated somehow, was all he could think. He shared his thoughts with both Hunk and Pidge, both of whom had rolled their eyes.

"Lance," Pidge had said as gently as she could, knowing full well how heated Lance still was over the whole situation, "why don't you just talk to the guy? Make another friend? Then you could study together, and he could share some tips? I've seen him in the library multiple times, sometimes for hours. I really don't think he's cheating."

"Whatever."

So today found Lance narrowing his eyes at his academic rival, watching as his mulleted head of hair disappeared into another store. If only he wasn't working right now . . .

 

* * *

 

**Shiro**

 

The mall was teeming with activity, and when Shiro wasn't busy gazing over the multitude of items on sale, he was marveling over the Christmas spirit that was apparent everywhere he looked. The mall's speaker system was playing some soft Christmas songs, the kind that reminded him of a merry fire in a fireplace. Icicle lights were hung from the entrances of stores. Families were shopping together, couples holding hands, children laughing in excitement over toys on display. There was even a jolly looking Santa Claus taking pictures with children, complete with two helper elves.

But something was off with Keith.

Shiro knew it. Of course he did. From day one, Keith had been a quiet child, shying away when too many neighborhood children came around and wanted to play. He had grown into a relatively introverted young adult, not really associating with many people. Where Shiro had layers and layers of friends, Keith talked to some online pals and rarely had anyone over. But his adopted brother's usual quiet energy was way different than the aura he was exuding right now, and Shiro had no idea what had caused it.

Maybe it was being in the mall with so many people around. Keith had never been a fan of crowds. But even when they were in a less busy store, perusing the shelves, Keith still looked like something was bothering him. Almost as if he was thinking too hard about an easy math problem. Shiro sighed quietly. He knew that maybe Keith would never tell him what was on his mind, but he also knew that Keith was one of the most capable people he knew. He was strong. Whatever it was that was bothering him, he would be able to get past it.

"Who do you have left to shop for?" Keith asked as they walked through the main part of the mall.

"Well . . . " Shiro reddened slightly, pretending to look at the time on his phone. "Just something for a friend, actually."

Keith's mouth spread into a knowing grin, eyes twinkling. It made Shiro feel a little relieved to see an uplift in his mood, and hoped it would last. Even if it was at his own expense.

"Friend, eh? This wouldn't happen to be for that pretty girl at the coffee shop you go to every day, would it?"

Shiro composed the most serious facial expression he could manage.  _ Shit _ . "She's just a friend, Keith."

"Uh huh. Well what are you going to get for this 'just a friend'?"

They were approaching a chain bookstore. "I was thinking a book, maybe?" Keith raised an eyebrow, entertained. "She mentioned she liked Stephen King."

"Well then," Keith gestured towards the store. "Let's go find the lovely lady some quality fiction."

Shiro smiled at his brother, the younger leading the way into the store. He really couldn't ask for a better sibling than Keith. His brother knew him better than Shiro knew himself, and he shook his head at his apparent transparency.

"But you owe me a cup of coffee for this, Shiro!" Keith called over his shoulder.

He was still the best brother he could have asked for.

 

* * *

 

**Pidge**  

 

Pidge liked to think she hid her emotions fairly well. Take today, for example. Neither Lance nor Hunk were currently aware of the fact that she was barely holding herself together. Hunk was too busy with runny-nosed kids and Lance was fretting over something, probably some sort of new existential crisis.

Maybe it was because Pidge had never really been the overly expressive type. She could be pretty dry most of the time, and tended to be heavily sarcastic as well. So maybe drastic changes in her emotions wouldn't really show up on anyone's radar because how she acted today was not really different than any other day.

It had been almost a year now that her father and brother had been away on this archaeological dig or  _ something _ . When Matt and her father had first told her that they would be going away for an extended period of time, Pidge had been mostly okay with it. There was always Skype, right? And it's not like she and Matt even had a lot of the same interests. He was wayyyyy into history and ancient cultures, like their father. Pidge, on the other hand, preferred technology. The  _ future _ . So when they had first flown out, Pidge had wished them luck and success.

It was about a week or so later that the first feelings of loneliness had started to creep in. Her mother worked a lot of the time as an instructor at the local community college. Pidge rarely saw her. The house just seemed so empty now. Where formerly somebody had always been home, their television turned up too loud or the sound of pots in the kitchen, it was now solemnly quiet.

It was a couple months later that Pidge had met Hunk and Lance at college, for all of them had shared a prerequisite course together. After that, their friendship had taken off, and they would spend a lot of time studying or playing video games or snacking on food. It helped to serve as a distraction, to make her forget for a while how much she missed her family.

So the months had flown by, and Pidge had found herself wrapped up in school and projects of her own. Matt and her father had informed both Pidge and her mother that they would be back for a couple weeks at Christmas. She had been looking forward to that for quite some time. Until the Skype conversation two days ago, when they had dropped the bomb.

Their assignment had been extended an extra two months.

Mrs. Holt had been disappointed, to be sure. But she had smiled after a moment, telling her husband and son that she missed them, and wished them well. Pidge, on the other hand, had forced cheer in her voice from the onset, probably sounding way too artificial in the way that she rambled on about her projects and scampered off soon after.

"Did you  _ see  _ that?" Lance suddenly hissed from beside her in the mall.

"See what, Lance?" She asked in a bored tone.

Lance looked around them apprehensively, as if afraid that he would be overheard. Pidge rolled her eyes, exhaling. He really was a handful, sometimes.

"Keith. Kogane."

Pidge tilted her head to the side. "You aren't still on this 'Keith cheated on the final' kick, are you?"

Lance looked away, as if finding the line of kids still waiting impatiently in line to be fascinating. "No," he said petulantly, crossing his arms.

"Mmmkay." 

Pidge went back to work, motioning the next set of parents forward to collect their payment. They had two small kids, a boy and a girl. It made Pidge think of herself and Matt for the briefest of moments, and she again found herself downtrodden by the fact that half of her family would be gone for Christmas.

She held back a sigh, forcing a neutral expression on her face. She would get through this, somehow.

 

* * *

 

 **Hunk**  

 

Christmas was Hunk's favorite holiday, by far, always had been. There had just always been something special about waking up in the morning to open presents with his two younger sisters that was incredibly exhilarating. Afterwards, he would go outside and play for a bit, and Lance would come by. They would show each other the new bike they had gotten, or the rollerblades, or a new handheld game. Christmas, for Hunk, was about sharing a part of himself with others.

And who was he kidding? The presents were cool, too.

But as he got older, he found he derived more joy out of the giving aspect of Christmas. Months ahead of time, Hunk could be found scouting out the perfect presents for friends and family. Lance, especially, was fun to shop for. He always managed to find some sort of jokey useful gift that his friend would get a kick out of. Like obnoxiously shaped soap-on-a-rope. Or a huge tub of super spicy cheese balls (Lance's tongue had been on fire after that one).

Hunk was just that sort of good person that nobody ever had a bad word for. He stood up for those that were bullied and befriended them. Helped tutor Math in his spare time. Even volunteered at the local animal shelter. Lance, and now Pidge, often told him that he was unreal and too good for this world. But Hunk would just shrug. He just liked people and animals. And wanted to do his part in this vast, dynamic world.

It was at the last fundraiser for a local non-profit cat shelter that Hunk had met Shay. She had come with a friend to adopt a cat, and Hunk had shown her around, introducing her to all the cats desirous of a home. Of course, Hunk had found Shay to be very pretty and charming, but he hadn't found a way to make this known to her. Shay had eventually settled on an extremely mild-mannered adult cat who she promptly renamed Nibbles, for his penchant for little affectionate bites when he wanted to be petted.

As they were saying good-bye, Shay had slipped Hunk a small piece of paper, a mysterious smile on her face as she walked away. When Hunk had read over the digits of her phone number, he had looked up, his smile as bright as a supernova. Now months later, the two of them were dating, brilliantly happy with each other.

Hunk smiled to himself at the thought of Shay. She would be coming over on Christmas evening, after she finished a shift at the hospital where she was a nurse. Hunk's parents and sisters would be going to his aunt's, but he had decided he wanted to make Shay a special Christmas dinner all by himself. She was going to be tired after a long shift, not really up for a party at his aunt's where one would be expected to socialize. Hunk's parents, pleasant and as good-natured as their son, had smiled when he had voiced his intentions.

"Of course," his mother had said with a smile. "That sweet girl deserves a quiet night and a good dinner."

Hunk had pored over recipes, wondering what he could make for his girlfriend that would be even half as special as she was. After hours and suggestions from his parents, Hunk had settled on spaghetti parmesan and pumpkin pie. He knew that they didn't really  _ go together _ , but he didn't care. They were both delicious, and both favorites of Shay's. Not to mention, that the execution of both wouldn't be of much difficulty at all.

The Santa Claus found himself running over the list of ingredients in his head one more time, trying to remember anything he may have forgotten. He wanted this dinner to be perfect. Hunk was considering the ingredients for the pumpkin pie when he remembered pie crusts. He hadn't added that to his list! Making a mental note to himself to add it to his phone later, Hunk smiled as another kiddo approached him, waiting for her turn with Santa.

"Ho ho ho!" he called, arms wide as he welcomed her. "And what's your name?"

"Sarah!" The girl crowed, all smiles. Kids really were the best, Hunk thought fondly.

He totally forgot about the pie crusts.

 

* * *

 

**Thace**  

 

Today was a bad day. A really bad day.

People were everywhere. They were loud. They were needy. He wanted to be far away from here, with his wife and their son. He sighed.

Thace spent a few minutes talking to the photographer at "Santa's North Pole," reminding him, yet again, that he couldn't take multiple smoke breaks during the work day. And, now that he was here, he found it prudent to remind those two worker "elves" that they were taking breaks that were way longer than the fifteen minutes that were allotted.

"Hey. You." Thace crossed his arms, his voice gruff as the blue elf kid turned around. When he saw Thace, the guy blanched.

"Uh. Were you talking to me?" The kid . . . Lance, right? . . .pointed at himself almost tremulously.

"Yeah. I noticed that you and your co-worker there each took 18 minutes today on break. Make sure that doesn't happen again."

Lance's eyes were wide. "O-okay. Sorry about that, Mr. Thace, sir."

Thace harrumphed, turning away. He had other matters to attend to, but he would be sure to keep an eye on those college kids. Young adults these days just didn't seem to know the value of hard work, he thought distantly.

He headed over to a few of the other kiosks he managed in the mall, checking in on their sales and progress for the week. Things were going good, but he managed to rein in any satisfied expression. If you gave people an inch, they would take a mile and run with it. Better to be consistent with your expectations.

A vibration in his pocket brought a halt to his bitter thoughts. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket. Ah. Julia, his wife. The tender feeling that is love wound its way around his heart, but it was tinged with sorrow.

"Julia?" Thace rumbled into the phone, moving away from the crowds. "Everything okay?"

Julia's voice came out sounding tired. "What time are you out today?"

"In a few hours." Thace leaned against a wall, closing his eyes briefly.

"They won't let you leave early?"

Thace sighed softly. "Honey, we need the money. Medical care is expensive, and our insurance isn't covering all of the costs." He didn't tell Julia just how much they were in the hole for the hospital bills that were quickly piling up.

"I know." Julia paused, her voice changing, almost cracking. "I miss you."

Thace clenched his fist. "I miss you, too. I'll see you tonight."

They disconnected shortly after, and Thace remained leaning against the wall for a while, his heart hurting. When he looked around, he saw families everywhere. Happy and healthy and together.

  
He would give up everything, to be able to have that again.


	2. December 24th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is now Christmas Eve, and we begin to see the resolving of some conflicts while others begin to rear their head.

**Shiro**

 

Christmas Eve dawned beautifully, bathing the town in warm hues of burnt gold and light pink.  Shiro smiled, tapping on the steering wheel as he waited for the stoplight to turn green.  It was going to be a great day, he could feel it.

“What’s got you smiling like that?” his partner, Danny, asked from the passenger seat.

“Eh, nothing in particular,” Shiro said, shrugging his shoulders.

“Mmm hmm,” Danny said knowingly, with a significant look at Shiro.  “So your shit-eating grin has nothing to do with the fact that we’ll be getting coffee in an hour or so?”

“Well, I do l like coffee.”  Danny threw back his head and laughed.

Shiro went back to smiling to himself, considering the day ahead of him. Yes, they would be getting coffee soon.  He and Danny usually got a cup every morning at Alfor’s, a local cafe where everyone was always friendly, taking the time to get to know their regulars. Shiro had made a friend in Allura, the current owner of the business. They often talked about anything and everything while he waited for his coffee, which was how he had found out a while back that she was a Stephen King fan.

Over time, the rookie police officer had found himself growing to admire Allura, finally able to admit to himself (if not to anybody else) that he seemed to have kind of a crush on her. He felt himself reddening just thinking about it.  A crush. What kind of high school malarkey was that?

_ Get ahold of yourself, Shiro _ , he thought to himself.   _ You’ve got a job to concentrate on. _

So the next hour was filled with patrolling the area, with Danny having them stop here and there to sit and observe their surroundings.  Shiro’s partner, some four or five years his senior, might still be relatively young to be training people but he was wise.  Shiro drank in everything that was shared, every nugget of knowledge passed on.  Today, though, he found it extra hard to concentrate, knowing that very soon he would get to see Allura, and hand over his gift.

After they had made a couple of traffic stops due to speeders in a school zone, Danny suggested they make their way over to Alfor’s, and Shiro bit back an excited grin.  Yesterday, Shiro and Keith had spent a good hour in the bookstore in the mall.  Keith had even stayed to help out, searching the shelves with Shiro, in order to find something for “Shiro’s friend.”  It was on the top shelf that Keith had found a collection of short stories by Stephen King.  Perfect.  Once he had checked out with his purchase, Shiro had treated his brother to a coffee. And a muffin.

In the driver’s side door compartment, the gift was wrapped in whimsical paper, featuring a pattern of a cute penguin lolling about. Danny had scoffed when he had seen it. On top of the gift, Shiro had attached a small card with a short note written inside.  He may have felt a little adventurous the previous night when he wrote it out, jotting down his phone number as part of the message.

Shiro put the car in park, grabbing the gift and shutting the car door behind him.  He could feel a little bit of nervousness well up inside of him at the idea of giving Allura the gift.  Would she like it?  Would it be too forward of him? Was the card too much? Would she be shocked that he had given her his phone number? The questions swirled around in his head as he opened the door for himself and Danny.

Shiro looked quickly to the counter, gray eyes wandering, in search of Allura.  She was always behind the counter this time of morning, greeting the two of them with a beautiful smile.  

But not today.

No, today there was just a young girl that looked to be about 17 or so, wiping down the counter near the cash register. Calysta? Shiro remembered her name vaguely.  He gazed around the room, but there was no sign of Allura.  Some of his good mood deflated.  

But he wasn’t about to give up.

The two police officers ordered their drinks, and Calysta moved quickly and efficiently around the espresso machine, and their order was complete in just a couple of minutes.  Danny grabbed his cup, ready to go.  But Shiro lingered behind.

“Um. . . hey Calysta?”

Calysta looked curiously at Shiro, pushing her bangs away from her face.  “Yeah?”

“Is . . . Allura around?”

Calysta shook her head.  “‘Fraid not. Had to pick up something, I think she said.”

“Oh.”  Shiro said, disappointed.  “Well, would you mind giving her this?” He handed Calysta the wrapped gift, and she looked at him with a knowing smile.  

“Sure.”  Shiro nodded and smiled politely, turning to leave.  Danny was already at the car, leaning against the passenger door and sipping at his drink.

“Hey,” he pointed his chin at Shiro.  “Isn’t that Allura?”

Shiro turned around.  There, walking up the sidewalk, were the backs of two people looking at the window displays of shops on the block.  The person on the left was clearly Allura, made obvious by the cascade of lustrous, silvery hair that flowed down her back, and the dark tan of her perfect skin. Shiro opened his mouth to call to her, when the pair turned, moving on.  And he felt his heart plummet to the floor of his chest.

The clear bell-like sound of Allura’s laughter carried all the way back to Shiro, and even in his sudden misery he admired it.  But it did nothing to erase how he felt to see Allura’s arm linked through her male companion’s, how her head came to rest on his shoulder.

He was wrong.  It wasn’t going to be a good day.  It was the worst.

* * *

**Thace**  

 

The coffee was cold now, acidic and unpleasant on Thace’s tongue.  He made a face as he swallowed, and then poured the rest of his coffee down the drain.  Really, he should have realized it wouldn’t taste good any more, but he had been distracted all day.  Like every day lately, he had a lot on his mind.

Thace left his office, really just a small cubicle, steeling himself to concentrate on work today.  The mall, though less busy than yesterday, was still teeming with last minute shoppers that were hellbent on buying gifts for people that would probably get tossed aside within a few weeks, anyways.

Just a few more hours and the mall would be closed.  Just a few more hours, and he would be back at the hospital with Julia, trying to continue being a pillar of strength for the two of them. Just a few more hours, and Christmas Eve night would be upon him, families everywhere celebrating with each other.  

All of this, while Damien, his 12 year old son, continued to lie lifeless in his hospital bed, confined by the coma he still hadn’t woken from.  

It had been three weeks ago that Damien failed to make it home after school.  At first, Julia and Thace hadn’t been too worried, for their energetic son often dawdled after classes to ride around their neighborhood with his friends.  But the hours began to pass, and still no sign of their quirky and happy son.  

Thace had called the parents of Damien’s best friend, already ready to lecture Damien for staying too long at his friend’s house playing video games--but Zachary hadn’t seen Damien since they parted ways hours earlier after school.  The curlings of concern in Thace’s stomach had changed into a jackhammer of panic.  Damien--where was he??? It was then that there had been a knock on their door.  He flung it open, revealing two police officers looking quite unhappy.

Damien had been hit by a car, they said.  He was in the hospital, in critical condition.

Julia had crumpled into Thace’s side, screaming, crying, words unintelligible.  Thace had frozen for a moment, before snapping out of it.

His family needed him.  

They had gone to the hospital, unable to see their son for the time being.  He was still in surgery. At those words, Thace had slung an arm around his wife’s waist, holding her close, feeling her trembling. Hours later, they had received word that Damien was stable, but in a coma.  Thace and Julia didn’t know quite how to feel.  The prognosis for his recovery wasn’t good.

Thace came back to himself, his eyes feeling swollen with the threat of tears, his heart hurting with the circumstances involving his son. He was somehow back by “Santa’s North Pole.” Thace blinked a few times, observing the scene. There was nobody in line waiting to get their picture taken with Santa, and the photographer was taking advantage of it by tapping away at his phone. The two elves, Lance and Pidge, were chatting with that other college kid, Hunk. They all seemed animated, no doubt happy to be celebrating Christmas with their families.

And suddenly something inside of Thace settled into place.  These kids shouldn’t be here.  It was Christmas Eve, and the mall would be closing in a few short hours.  They deserved to be happy and free. To enjoy the time they could be spending with their families . . . his jaw clenched.

“Hey!” Thace called. Santa and his elves turned to look at who had yelled out to them, and their faces froze in identical expressions of fear. The photographer didn’t bother, still absorbed in his phone.

“Uh, hey Mr. Thace!” Hunk called merrily, waving.  “Merry Christmas!”

Thace shoved his hands in his pockets.  “Why don’t you guys call it a day? Close up and get going home?”

He saw the three friends exchange a look, disbelieving that their boss would have offered up such a gift.

“But we have three hours left . . .” Pidge pointed out, speaking slowly as if to emphasize a point. “What if someone complains?”

“I’m your direct supervisor. If anyone has something to say, they can come to me.”

“Wow, thanks!” Hunk rose from Santa’s chair, stretching.

“Merry Christmas! And thanks!” said Lance, the tall and gangly one.

“Thank you,” Pidge said simply, bowing slightly in respect.

Thace just nodded at them, noticing that the cameraman was already halfway done with packing up his equipment.  He watched as the college kids set up the closed sign, and together they walked away. 

He stood there, lost in thought, for how long he knew not. But he came to himself again when he felt the vibration of his phone in his pocket. A quick glance at his phone’s display revealed it to be his wife.

He didn’t even get to greet her, because she was breathing quickly into the phone. Thace felt himself start to panic,  _ oh no oh no nononono. _

But--

“Thace,” she said. “He’s awake.”

He bolted.

 

* * *

 

**Lance**  

 

Lance quickly changed out of his uncomfortable elf outfit and tried not to kick the tunic and leggings where they lied on the floor in the changing room. He would have to get it dry cleaned and returned to his boss at some point.  And the guy had been nice enough to let them leave early. 

_ No more elf outfit!  _ He sung to himself, slipping on a pair of jeans and his sneakers.   _ No more snot-nosed kids!  _

Soon enough, he was ready to go, finding that Hunk and Pidge were already changed and waiting for him.  He grinned at the pair, leaning against the wall and wiggling his eyebrows.

“Waiting for a handsome guy like me to come along?” Pidge rolled her eyes.

“C’mon, c’mon,” Hunk groused, yanking on his arm. “I’ve got some shopping to do.”

The three friends left the lounge room that had been designated for their use, as well as for other employees (like security and the custodial staff). They walked through the main part of the mall, and Lance could see that the mall was finally clearing out.  There weren’t a lot of shoppers left.

“Well, I’m off,” Pidge announced as they passed the food court, which was also one of the main entrances to the mall. She dug in her bag for a moment, finally bringing forth two envelopes.  “For you guys.”

“Aw thanks Pidge,” Hunk said, slinging an arm around her shoulders affectionately. “Here’s yours.” He handed her a small, wrapped, square-shape box, which she took with a tentative smile.

“What is it?” she asked, shaking it. 

“You have to wait til tomorrow to see,” Hunk informed her.

Lance took his own envelope from Pidge, his name written in small but spiky handwriting. “You didn’t have to get me anything,” he said with a grin. “But I’m so glad you did.”

“You never stop being you, do you?” 

“Nope.” He brought forth an oddly-shaped gift, and Pidge looked at him quizzically as she took it.  

“What is it?”

Lance laughed, shrugging. “Merry Christmas, Pidge.”

His smaller friend smiled. “Merry Christmas.” With a small wave, she was walking away, headed out to the parking lot.

“So what are you up to tonight?” Hunk asked as they resumed walking. 

“Eh, not much. A lot of the family’s coming over tomorrow. I’ll probably wrap the rest of--”

“Oh, HEY, Lance. Let’s go this way, totally forgot to get something . . .” And then Hunk had an arm around his shoulders, trying to steer Lance away and back the way they had come.

“Dude, what is up with you?” Lance pushed off his arm, coming to a halt.

“Nothing!” But Lance saw the ferrety look in his eyes, so he turned around, casting a wide glance in the direction they had just come from.

Unbelievable.

Keith Kogane.  _ Again. _ In the flesh.

Lance begin to simmer, watching as Keith walked resolutely into a department store.

“That is  _ it _ . Time to have a chat with ol’ Keithy-boy.” And with that, Lance stomped away, following Keith into the store he had just entered.

“Lance. Lance!” 

Lance heard Hunk’s exasperated voice calling from behind him, but it did no good. He was not going to go the rest of the winter vacation without giving Keith a piece of his mind. Not to mention, he’d have to put up with seeing that damn mullet in more of his classes.

Nope. He was going to settle this, and he was going to settle this right now. 

So he strode through the entryway, standing on tiptoes to see above the displays of winter coats and stuffed animals, trying to see which way Keith had gone. To his dismay, Keith was nowhere in sight. Lance huffed, taking a last look right and then left, before heading straight. 

He passed the junior’s section (no Keith), and the cosmetics counter (noooo Keith). Lance began to walk faster, taking him past the fragrances, infant/toddler area, and intimates (still no Keith).  Growing more frustrated, and circling back to the entrance, Lance headed towards the shoes. And it was there he found Keith at last, his wild hair unmistakeable at this distance.

Lance opened his mouth to call out to him, but then he frowned. Because Keith was seated in a chair, head in his hands, fingers pulling on his black strands of hair. Lance’s angry words died on his tongue, and his emotions went into a spin cycle of confusion. Something was clearly wrong with Keith. And Lance wasn’t a bad guy, he wasn’t going to kick a guy while he was down. Maybe he should just leave, take a quick exit stage left or whatever, take this up again next semester. Because Keith was going through something right now, and Lance wasn’t exactly the best at helping people deal with emotions.

Somehow, though, Lance found himself walking towards Keith slowly, finally taking a seat across from him in the chairs meant for people when trying on shoes. But no other customers were around. Just a clerk some distance away, straightening up the clearance shoes racks.

He found that his heart went out to whatever was making his rival hide his face. Nobody deserved to be sad, especially near Christmas. 

“Hey, Keith.” Lance said quietly.

 

* * *

 

 

**Keith**

 

The chair he was sitting in wasn’t exactly comfortable, but Keith found he didn’t much care. His frustration at himself was off the charts, and he didn’t know what to do. It was driving him crazy. 

He went home yesterday after helping Shiro shop for his friend, not seeing anything that had stuck out at him as something Shiro might like as a gift. He had gone to his room, throwing himself on his bed and googling “Christmas gifts for a brother.” And again, nothing had really caught his attention. Lame lame lame.

Next, Keith considered appealing to his parents. Maybe they would have an idea, some sort of gift they had thought of getting for Shiro. The Shiroganes were a very practical couple, their gifts always useful. But Keith just shook his head. To be sure, his parents were probably going to give Shiro an assortment of gifts. The kind that Keith also received every year, like socks and underwear, a gift card to the chain of gas stations in their city, batteries. It just didn’t seem enough of a gift for Shiro from Keith, something to show just how much he cared, how much he missed Shiro now, how much he wished they could spend more time together.

So today found him back at the mall, lame as all hell, walking around aimlessly and trying to find a meaningful gift for his brother. The one person who had always been there for him, who took his shit but turned it around on him so that Keith dealt with his problems. Funnily enough, Shiro would probably have the perfect solution to what Keith should get him for Christmas. He groaned in his seat, squeezing his eyes shut. Dammit.

Today it just seemed like he had blinders on, all the displays blurring together until it was one big mess of a trip to the mall. He was just going to go back home, head in the dirt, and buy a gift card online for Shiro. 

It would have to do, as wretched as that made Keith feel. 

“Hey, Keith.”

Keith’s head snapped up, and there across from him was a guy about his age, tall and tan-skinned. He was looking at him in what appeared to be concern, but Keith didn’t know why that would be. Because although he looked somewhat familiar and somehow knew his name, Keith was confident that they had never been introduced.

“Uh, hi? Can I . . . help you?”

Keith watched as the guy huffed a little, before he forced a smile. “You don’t know who I am, do you?” he asked wryly, but with a hint of hurt to it.

Keith shrugged. “No, not really.”

“I’m Lance. We had a few classes together.” Lance looked a little put out, looking down at the ground.

Oh.  _ Oh right. _ “I remember you, now.” Keith said with a dawning realization. “You’re one of the smarter kids in class. Ninety-seven on that Dynamic Systems exam, right?”

Lance looked back up at him, slightly mollified. “Yeah.” 

“Man, that one was a beast.” Keith tilted his head back, remembering. And despite himself, he felt a little better at having company. “I think I didn’t leave the library for a week. My backpack was full of empty Red Bull cans and Pop Tarts wrappers.”

“ . . . really? But you seem to always get top grades somehow . . .”

Keith looked up to see that Lance’s brows were furrowed, confused. “Well, yeah, because I study my ass off. Don’t you?”

“I guess so.” Lance tilted his head. “It just seemed like it came so easy to you.”

“Ha.” Keith folded his arms across his chest. “I’m pretty smart, but I fight for my grades.”

“Oh.” Lance seemed to process that, and Keith studied him, wondering why Lance had chosen to take a seat across from him just to talk about school. But then his classmate continued. “Um. So hey. I was wondering if everything was ok? Because you looked kinda upset.”

Right. Keith was a mess. He sighed. “I’m trying to figure something out,” he said vaguely, looking up at Lance from behind his wild bangs.

“Yeah? Well, anything I can help with?”

Keith was silent for a moment, considering. He  _ wasn’t _ good at this kind of thing at all, talking about his problems, talking to people his own age, being friendly with people at all. He was just so used to keeping to himself, only relenting when Shiro got that stubborn set to his shoulders and fixed an unimpressed expression on his face that was directed at Keith.

But Keith was in a serious bind here, and he could use all the help he could get.

“It might seem kind of silly . . .” he began, his voice trailing off.

“Try me.” Keith smiled slightly, seeing that Lance was being just as stubborn as Shiro. It was worth a shot. 

“I don’t know what to get my brother for Christmas,” he blurted out.

Lance blinked a few times, clearly not expecting that. “Dude, it’s Christmas Eve.”

“I  _ know _ .” 

Hearing the frustration in Keith’s voice, Lance backed off. “Okay, okay. So tell me about your brother. What does he do, what does he like to do?”

Keith thought about it, relaxing somewhat in his chair. “Well, he’s a police officer. And he likes his motorcycle . . .”

“A motorcycle?” Lance asked, interested.

“Yeah. We used to go riding together. I have one, too.” He couldn’t help the forlorn tone of his voice, and it was obvious Lance heard it too.

“So, you miss him.” It wasn’t a question.

Keith bowed his head, hiding behind his hair. “Yeah. I mean, I have school and he has work. I don’t get to see him much.”

Lance was quiet for a moment. Keith looked up to see he had his chin in his hand, thinking. “Well, why not get him a gift that’s something you two can do together?” he said simply.

“Like what?” Keith asked blankly.

“Hmmm.” Lance thought for a bit, before leaning forward excitedly in his chair. “Okay, so it sounds like your brother likes action. He’s a cop, he has a motorcycle. Is he a thrill-seeker sort of dude?”

“Definitely.” Keith smiled. “Last year, we went on vacation with our parents. He talked me into cliff diving. It was awesome.”

Lance grinned. “I have an idea.” He looked at his watch, checking the time. “And looks like we have just enough time, too. Come on.”

And with that, he grabbed Keith’s wrist, hauling him to his feet. Lance led the way out of the department store, out of the mall. Keith was mystified. A little uncertain, but mostly hopeful that Lance had latched onto an idea that would be perfect for a gift for Shiro. But as they walked across the parking lot, and then past the cars, Keith looked at his classmate.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” 

Keith shoved his hands into his coat pockets. Lance didn’t stop grinning the whole time, leading the way across the street and into a big parking lot. Once past some trees, a building came into view. Oh. 

It was an indoor skydiving facility. Keith’s eyes widened at the idea, feeling a sort of pleasant acceptance and curiosity. 

“Wait until you see inside, dude. It’s so cool.”

They were walking quicker now, and Keith hurried to keep up with Lance’s longer strides. Once inside, they stepped up to the counter where a friendly young woman was typing away at a computer. At seeing customers, she smiled brightly.

“Hey, welcome! Can I help you?”

Keith shuffled a little closer to Lance, not sure what he should ask for here. Thankfully, Lance spoke up. 

“Yeah, my . . .friend here was interested in indoor skydiving. Would you have some information for him?”

Friend? Keith considered the word, eyeing Lance out of the corner of his eye. Okay.

“Definitely. And you’re in luck. Mikey was just about to do a practice run, since we didn’t have any other appointments. Want to watch?”

“YEAH!” Lance said excitedly, and then looked over at Keith. “What do you think?”

Keith nodded. “That’d be cool.”

The employee, or Megan, as her name tag read, led them around the corner to a glass-paneled wind tunnel. A tall guy, Mikey presumably, was just getting in. Megan handed both Lance and Keith a pamphlet of offers, and then stayed next to them to watch.

Keith hadn’t ever seen anything like it. Mikey hovered in the air for a bit, seemingly effortless as he moved a bit from side to side. And then he moved quickly, flipping through the air, maneuvering his body so that he moved up and down through the wind tunnel. It looked incredibly fun. Keith wanted to try, but knew they didn’t have time for that. He watched as Mikey showed off a little bit more, and then turned to Lance once Mikey had finished his run.

“That was awesome,” he breathed. 

“Told ya. I tried it once with Hunk and Pidge--my friends. They didn’t want to come back, but I think I might some day.” Lance turned to face him. “You think your brother would like something like this?”

“Definitely.” Keith smiled, looking through the pamphlet for packages. He had been so worried, and all it took was a chance meeting with a classmate to solve the problem. Maybe he really should try and branch out more sometimes. 

Twenty minutes later, they were out in the parking lot, walking back towards their cars. Keith felt a tremendous sort of relief at having found something for Shiro at last, and a deep sense of gratitude. He didn’t know what he would have done had Lance not approached him.

“Lance.” The taller boy looked over, an eyebrow raised. “Thanks. I-I was at my wits’ end there for a while.”

Lance smiled, of a wild, beaming, sort. “No problem.”

“If you ever need anything, really, just ask. I’ll do my best to help.”

Lance kicked at a rock in the parking lot, and it bounced a good distance away. “Well . . .” he said, an uncertain lilt to his voice. “I could use some help studying sometime. Ya know, to get a better grade. Next semester is gonna be even worse. I’ll, uh, even provide some Red Bull.”

“Done.”  Keith grinned. He couldn’t remember the last time he smiled so much.

The rest of the way to their cars, they talked about school and other miscellaneous topics. Talking seemed to come easy to Lance, and Keith found himself loosening up more. Not minding talking about his brother and his motorcycle and his cat, Lucy. Maybe he  _ had _ just made a friend.

The two exchanged numbers before they headed their separate ways. 

“Hey--make sure to tell me what Shiro thought of his gift!” Lance called as he walked backwards. 

“You got it, man!”

* * *

 

**Pidge**

 

Pidge parked her car in the driveway, letting herself in through the garage. Her mom was home. Huh.  That was strange. But it was Christmas Eve, after all.  The college was probably closed today, so no need to do any work with students or department chair meetings. Having her mom home, though, meant that Pidge would have to summon her “happy” expression again.  She had ironed it on her face all day the last few days, and she was tired. Tired of loud kids at work, tired of rude parents, tired of pretending to be happy so that no questions were asked. 

“Pidge, honey? Is that you?”

There was the sound of a loud thunk coming from the kitchen, and something else. The heavenly scent of . . . sugary confections baking. Pidge sniffed the air, confused. She rounded the corner to the kitchen, and there her mom was, working with a rolling pin over some cookie dough.

“Mom?” Pidge didn’t know what to think. Her mom seemed festive, a genuine smile on her face, nails painted in Christmas colors. Off to one side, a couple of cooling racks were already filled with cookies of various kinds and colors.

“I’m glad that you’re home. Are you hungry?”

Pidge shrugged. “I guess so.” 

“There’s some meatloaf in the fridge from yesterday.”

Pidge cut herself a portion of the meatloaf, adding some leftover mashed potatoes to her plate. While she waited for it to cook, she peered out into the living room. The tree was lit, presents were wrapped under the tree, and her mom’s holiday village was even on display on a long table. 

It was all very weird.

Things had been subdued in their house ever since they had heard the news that Mr. Holt and Matt weren’t coming home in time for Christmas. Her mom, though putting up a brave front in front of Pidge, had buried herself in work. Pidge understood. It was one of the qualities she shared with her mother, after all. What she didn’t get was this sudden outburst of holiday cheer.

The microwave beeped, announcing the end of its heating cycle. Pidge took her plate, and sat at the kitchen island, watching her mother work. 

“What’s with all of the decorations, mom? And the cookies?”

Mrs. Holt paused, eyeing Pidge in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Pidge chewed on a piece of meatloaf, waving her fork around. “You know. Why all of this Christmas stuff all of a sudden?”

“Oh.” Mrs. Holt smiled tiredly. “About that. I wanted to apologize, actually.”

“Apologize?” 

“Mmm hmm.” She put a baking sheet of cookies in the oven and set a time before turning back to her daughter.

“Honey,” she began bracingly, “I know it’s been hard, what with your dad and Matt gone, and it’s been hard on me too.” Pidge looked down at her plate, dragging the fork tines through the remains of her potatoes. “But I’m the parent here, and I’m sorry that I haven’t done better to make things happier around here. I love you so much. And I just want to tell you it won’t be like that anymore. That you and I should do more things together. What do you think?”

Pidge looked up at her mother. Mrs. Holt’s eyes were a little watery, as was her smile. It made Pidge feel a little teary, too, to see her mother like that. So she got up off of her stool, walked around the island, and hugged her mother tightly.

“I’m sorry, too, mom,” she said quietly into her shoulder. Pidge had always been the shortest of the family.

“You have nothing to be sorry about.” Mrs. Holt squeezed her tightly before letting go. “Now eat up. You get to help me ice some of those sugar cookies in a bit.”

Pidge, who normally would have run from such a task, smiled her first real smile in days. “Sounds good.”

 

* * *

 

**Hunk**  

 

The grocery store was a little busy. Obviously, shoppers had finished their gift shopping and then realized they needed to get that last minute box of stuffing or bottle of gravy. Hunk even saw a couple with a cart full of bulk candy and peanut butter. He didn’t ask.

One by one, he went through the shopping list on his phone, marking each ingredient off as he went. But the shopping trip was taking longer than necessary. People decided it would be fun to stand in the way without consideration of the fact that others needed to get through behind them in search of an ingredient further down in the aisle.

“Excuse me,” Hunk said, yet again, almost having to force the politeness this time. He was tired from working all day, and hungry. He hadn’t had time to take a lunch, and his stomach was a cacophony of angry rumbles. The older gentleman in the aisle slowly moved his cart out of the way, his eyes still on boxes of gelatin. Hunk huffed as he walked past, intent on getting pie filling. He remembered, in a spark of realization, that he still needed to get some pie crusts from the frozen food section. Sighing in relief that he hadn’t forgotten them, he parked his cart in front of the pie filling.

_ Bzz bzz. Bzz bzz. _

Hunk glanced at his phone’s display. He half-expected it to be another text from Lance explaining how he had somehow managed to befriend his former (but one-sided) rival Keith, but instead he was surprised to see that it was his mother. “Hey, mom,” he greeted as he answered the phone.

“Hi baby!” Hunk blushed, hoping that other shoppers couldn’t hear his mother’s affectionate voice and term of endearment. To be safe, he thumbed down on the volume so that it was lower in his ear, just in case.

“What’s up?” Hunk grabbed two cans of pumpkin pie filling from the shelf, setting them in his cart that was steadily getting fuller.

“Are you still at the store?”

“Yup. Just finished, actually.” Hunk pushed his cart out the way of other shoppers. He had a pretty good idea of what was coming next.

“Oh, great! Would you be able to pick up a can of those fried onions that we use for green bean casserole? I somehow forgot to get some the other day when I was there. I need it for tomorrow, for your aunt’s house.” In the background, Hunk could hear his two sisters bickering over something. “Girls! Would you knock it off?” his mother hissed at them.

“Sure, no problem, ma. Anything else you need?” Hunk took off again, in search of the fried onions. He knew which aisle they were in, and from there it was right to the registers.

“No thanks, sweetie. Just drive carefully, okay?” Hunk smiled. His other was always overly worrying about him and his two sisters. She would text him when it was raining bad or snowing, wanting to know when he got home or to school.

“I will.” They hung up shortly after, and Hunk got the item his mother asked for, heading to the cash registers. The fleeting thought that he still needed to get pie crusts popped like a soap bubble, as quick as it came. He finished cashing out for his purchases, whistling a Christmas tune, happy with life.

  
  



	3. December 25th, Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas Day!

 

**Pidge**  

 

Warmth surrounded Pidge on all sides. She had burritoed herself into bed last night, her feet clothed in thick, fluffy socks. Pidge felt the edges of sleep leave her slowly but surely, but remained indignant, not ready to admit that she was awake. It was Christmas morning, and Pidge wasn’t sure if she was ready to face today without her father and brother present.

Usually, on Christmas mornings, Pidge would be the first awake. Even last year, at 19 years old, she had bounded into her brother’s room, mercilessly flopping on top of Matt to wake him up. The sky had still been dark, and Matt had groaned when he saw the time on his phone. But he had gotten up anyways, grumbling about needing coffee. Though when he saw the Christmas tree lit up, and the amount of presents under the tree, his eyes had widened in some sort of childish nostalgia.  Pidge and he had squealed in excitement until their parents had woken up, coffee long forgotten.

But today was different. Today there was no dad and no Matt. It would be Pidge and her sweet mother, probably exchanging presents quietly before making breakfast together. Which was a nice Christmas morning, to be sure. But it would be different from any that Pidge had experienced before. So she let herself take a bit longer in bed, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes and gradually unwinding herself from her thick comforter.

A quick glance at her phone revealed the time to be some time just after 9 am. She saw that she had already received a few “Merry Christmas” texts, a few that were from Lance. No doubt, with the size of his family, that a cousin or younger sibling had woken the entire house up at some point hours ago. Pidge decided to wait until later to read the messages, not quite ready to respond with an adequate amount of cheer. Maybe some time after she had breakfast with her mom. She had promised Pidge waffles with strawberries and whipped cream, Pidge’s favorite. That was enough to put anyone in a good mood.

With a loud exhale, Pidge heaved herself up and out of her bed, immediately shivering at the cold temperature in her room.  For some reason, she had the coldest room in the house. No matter that her family regarded this claim with some skepticism. Pidge maintained that they were trying to freeze her out of house and home. Quickly making her way over to her closet, she found a baggy sweater that had once been Hunk’s (he left it in the library once and Pidge had since claimed it as her own, to Hunk’s amusement) and pulled it down over her short, carroty hair, the sleeves flowing down enough to cover her hands. Finally, not able to delay any more, she opened her bedroom door wide, her senses immediately overcome with a few things all at once.

HUH?

The smell of coffee traveled up the stairs, warm and familiar. She immediately wanted a cup, hot and with enough cream in it to look like snow. But what was weird was the fact that her mother didn’t drink coffee. She drank tea instead, adding a little honey. Pidge could smell that, too. Maybe her mother had made it for Pidge? Anticipating that she would want some?

The immaculate scent of coffee pervading the air was not the only thing that was strange. As she took the first steps down the stairs, the sound of voices became distinguishable and louder. The joyous, trilling laughter was no mystery. It clearly belonged to her mother. But the low tones that were harder to make out sounded like Mr. Holt, and the somewhat sarcastic voice that was now talking sounded like Matt.

Pidge took a few hurried steps down the stairs, heart pumping rapidly in her chest. 

Matt?? Dad?? 

They were home!?!

But then the sinking realization set in, and it was more painful than what she had been feeling for the last few days. She should have thought of it first. Right. 

Skype.

Dad and Matt usually contacted them this time of day, to account for both of their time zones. Pidge closed her eyes for a moment, willing her tears to go back into her eyes. She reminded herself of all that she had to be grateful for her in her life. Her health. Her friends. Her family. A fun program at school. An awesome laptop she built herself. And so much more. But it was so hard to remember that, when the burden of being sad felt heavier than ever. 

“Pidge?” Her mom’s voice trailed up the stairs. “Why don’t you come down and get a cup of coffee, honey?”

“Coming,” she called back, just loud enough to be heard. Taking a few deep breaths helped, and then she walked the rest of the way down the stairs. For some reason, the voices seemed to have stopped, and Pidge wondered about that for a fleeting moment as she turned the corner to enter the kitchen.

It couldn’t be.

The sun was shining merrily through the windows, the curtains tied back to let it in the natural light. A fresh pot of coffee was brewing on the counter, making percolating sounds as the water heated up. A tray of sugar cookies lay on the counter, some decorated by Pidge herself, quite a few now missing. And there was her mom smiling, seated at the kitchen island, bringing a cup of tea to her mouth. But sitting with Mrs. Holt were two people who happened to mean the world to Pidge, and she immediately felt her eyes well up with tears of surprise and an overwhelming sense of joy.

“Dad! Matt!” her voice croaked out, and then she was rushing forward. Her dad stood up from his stool, and Pidge leapt up at him, and he laughed as he caught her in a hug.

“Pidge! I missed you,” he said gently, kissing the top of her head. 

“I missed you too.” She didn’t bother to try and hide the tears that fell down her cheeks, too caught up in the fact that her father and brother were home and safe. She let go of her father slowly, only to crush her brother in a hug next.

“Look at you, getting all sappy,” he teased, but squeezed her just as much.

“Hmph.” When Pidge took a step back, she looked first at her brother and then at her father.

“When?” she asked, finding it necessary to clear her throat of the thickness that had set in from crying. “When did you get in?”

“Just this morning.” Mr. Holt smiled, placing a hand over his wife’s smaller one. “Our director was able to arrange for a lot of us to come home after all, but it was last minute. So we decided to make it a surprise.”

“Are you--are you going back?” Pidge asked, sauntering over to take a seat next to her mother.

“Yes, but not until the second week of January. And only then for another two months. After that, home for a good, long time.”

Pidge smiled, exchanging a look with her mom. Their expressions were the same, and Pidge took comfort in the fact that she and her mom would get through it when the other two Holts had to leave again. Because they knew what it took now, and they would do it together. 

“Pidge!” Matt suddenly stood, his stool almost falling over in his haste to get to his feet. “Presents!”

Pidge’s eyes lit up like a kid who had won a shopping spree in a candy store. Or like a young woman who realized just how much her family meant to her, and would always keep them close to her heart.

“Presents!” She yelled back at him. And without otherwise voicing their intentions, they both ran towards the living room at the same time. 

A couple of hours later, Pidge retrieved her phone. With a genuinely happy and fully content smile on her face, she texted a picture of herself and Matt to both Lance and Hunk. “Merry Christmas!” she added.

“Pidge! Get in here and help with breakfast!” Matt called from the kitchen. “You’re on bacon duty!”

Pidge grinned. She couldn’t think of anything else she’d rather do.

* * *

 

**Thace**  

Somewhere, part of Thace’s brain registered the fact that his neck was very much in an uncomfortable position right now. But he was beyond caring about that trivial fact, the top half of his sleeping body propped up by a hospital bed, one of his hands lying on his son’s shoulder. 

After he had received the news from Julia that Damien was awake, Thace had rushed to the hospital, finger jabbing at the number five plastic button in the elevator that would take him up to the floor where his son was being cared for. His fists had been clenched, his whole body tense and anxious to get to his family. Finally, after what had seemed like an eternity, the elevator had let him out, and he was running again.

He saw Julia first. She was at the side of Damien’s bed, looking down at him so peacefully. But she had heard Thace’s approach, and she looked up. Thace had become accustomed to the constantly pained and occasional closed-off look Julia had worn for three weeks now. He had almost forgotten what it had been like to see her smile in genuine happiness. So when Julia met Thace’s gaze, he looked upon her with wonder. Gone were the worry lines that creased her forehead and the sides of her eyes. Gone was the guilt and fear.

In place of all of those unpleasant expressions of emotion was a wide-eyed Julia, still in shock and finding it hard to believe Damien had woken up. And dear god, she was beautiful. Her cheeks had color to them again. Her warm brown eyes were receptive, full of hope. Her hands were no longer clenched in unease, but were splayed out and gently lying on top of their son’s hand.

“Thace,” she breathed, holding out a hand to him. And Thace had hurriedly stepped forward, taking her hand in his, clinging to it tightly. “He was awake for a few minutes. He knew who I was. He responded to the doctors.” Together, they looked down at the peaceful form of their sleeping son. “They said he might wake up a few times and fall back asleep soon after. Signs of a recovering brain. They are saying that his MRI tests look good so far.”

“That’s good,” Thace said softly, heart feeling bigger and softer than it had in a long time. A thousand questions ran through his mind, wanting answers answers answers. But Julia told him all that she knew, and he knew he must be patient. As difficult as that was. But he would manage. 

Because his son, his beautiful, vibrant, sweet boy, had woken up.

Doctors came in and out over the next few hours, discussing various tests and their results with Thace and Julia. Both sets of their parents came to visit Damien, too, after hearing that he had woken up for a few minutes. Thace almost couldn’t handle all of it at once, after so long of hearing nothing but negative forecasts for their son’s recovery. But Julia was there beside him, strong in the moments that he wasn’t. Fielding questions and offering answers when Thace needed a minute to collect his thoughts. He honestly didn’t think he would have gotten through this all had it not been for her. Because the truth of the matter was, they were each other’s foundation. Strong for each other. A never-ending support structure.

It was past midnight, now Christmas Day, that Julia had fallen into a deep sleep in the recliner in their son’s room. Thace found a blanket for his wife and spread it over her curled-up body. She murmured in her sleep, slightly readjusting, then fell silent once more. 

Thace walked to the window, gazing outside at the dark night, seeing the buildings nearby illuminated in colors of green and red. He hadn’t felt festive the whole month of December, remembering Thanksgiving as one of the last days he was surrounded by family and completely happy, wanting for nothing. How he had played catch with his son in the backyard before dinner, thinking to himself how fast Damien was growing. It was a far cry from how he had felt over the past few weeks. A deep and helpless sadness had dominated his thoughts, guided his behavior. Each day at work had been a struggle, when all he wanted was to be with his family and for Damien to be awake.

He turned away from the window, taking the few steps back to his son’s side and slowly taking a seat in the chair there. His eyes swept over his son’s pale face, ears adapting to the repetitive beeping of the heart monitor. Slowly, emotionally exhausted and physically drained from the day’s events, he folded his arms on the hospital bed and set his head down upon them. His last coherent thought was that his son was starting to look so remarkably like his mother. As his eyes fluttered shut for some much-needed sleep, his mouth moved to form a small smile.

_ “Dad?” _

Thace was dreaming. He could tell he was dreaming, because he still remembered this day in particular, had often thought about it in the past few weeks. In his dream, he and Julia were making dinner. It was summertime, and there were steaks on the grill. Fresh fruit cut and ready to be eaten. Potato salad chilling in the refrigerator. The meat was making sizzling sounds on the grill, and it smelled delicious. 

From behind him, he heard the sound of Julia’s loud laugh. She was happy, Thace was happy, everything was perfect. Off to the side, there were loud splashes in the pool as Damien repeatedly cannonballed into the water.

_ “Dad?” _

“Dinner’s ready, Damien!” Thace called out, grabbing a nearby platter to put the cooked steaks on.

“One more, Dad!” Thace watched as Damien hauled himself out of the pool, and then quick-walked to the deep end. He smiled approvingly. Finally, Thace’s and Julia’s reminders that he not run around the pool were starting to sink in. 

Damien cannonballed one more time into the pool, and Thace set the full platter of steaks down onto their patio table. Julia joined him with the potato salad and a pitcher of iced tea. They sat down in two of the chairs, and Thace poured each of them a glass of tea. But Damien hadn’t joined them yet.

Damien . . . 

_ “Dad.” _

Thace looked over to the pool, and he was on his feet in a split second. Because Damien was floating face down in the water. His heart leapt in his throat, and beside him, Julia gasped in horror. 

“Damien!” Thace yelled, taking a quick step and then another and then another. He was about to dive into the pool, clothes and all, but then Damien picked his head up. Spluttering and then grinning, he called out to his parents.

“I’m okay! I think that was a new record!” he prattled proudly, oblivious to his parents' panic. Thace and Julia had enrolled Damien in swimming lessons for the summer, and Thace dimly recalled Damien telling them that his instructors were teaching the kids some survival techniques in the water. Slowly but surely, his heart rate slowed down, and he exhaled deeply. He slowly took his seat once more, and felt Julia take his hand. Together, they watched as Damien climbed the ladder out of the pool, stopping to grab his towel. Less than half a minute later, he was sitting in the last chair, the towel draped over his head. “I’m starving,” he moaned, putting his small hands on his skinny stomach.

He’s okay, Thace thought. Thank god,  _he's okay._

_ “Dad!” _

Thace woke with a start, his back making a loud popping noise. For a couple of seconds, his mind was still in his dream, the past and the present colliding. But he blinked a few times, and found himself staring at his son. He was awake, and smiling at his father.

“Damien,” Thace said reverently. “Damien.” He lurched unsteadily to his feet, body still somewhat uncooperative after having been asleep for so long in a unforgiving position. On the other side of the bed, Julia was watching them both with the fondest of smiles.

Thace gathered his son gently into his arms, careful not to jostle him too much. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Dad,” Damien said raspily, his voice not yet fully returned to him due to disuse.

“You were sleeping pretty deeply there,” Julia remarked, her fingers threading through her son’s. “Damien woke up and ‘Dad’ was the first thing he’s said.”

  
Thace moved back into his chair, his heart thumping happily and hopefully in his chest. Damien continued to look from one parent to the other, body getting accustomed to being awake again. He eyed the bulletin board in his room, seeing that his nurse had written “Merry Christmas!” on it.   


“Is it Christmas already?” he asked, his voice full of wonder.

“Yup,” Julia said tenderly. “There’s presents for you at home, under the tree.”

“Cool! When can we go?”

Thace smiled indulgently. “When you’re better, they’ll be there waiting for you. Merry Christmas, bud.”

Damien smiled happily at his father. “Merry Christmas, Dad!”

  
  


* * *

 

**Shiro**

 

Danny was driving the car today, chewing on some Christmas chocolates that he had swiped from the station’s candy dish. He had offered Shiro some, but Shiro had waved him off. He wasn’t really in the mood for much.

“Suit yourself,” Danny had said teasingly, before popping a Reese’s peanut butter tree into his mouth. “Hmmm so good.”

Shiro sighed, looking out at the window, buildings passing by slowly. “So what’s on the agenda today?”

Danny went over the area they would be covering, also mentioning how later on they rotate with a couple of their peers, allowing them the opportunity to go back to the station briefly for their Christmas party. Shiro nodded at this information, listening to what Danny had gotten for Marcus, his Secret Santa assignment.

An hour or so later, Danny parked them into a somewhat hidden enclosure at the side of a road. “You up for some coffee soon, Shirogane?” Danny asked, shifting around in his seat, trying to get comfortable.

“Not . . . not today. They’re probably not even open today.”

“The sign on the door yesterday said they’d be open til noon today.”

“Oh.” Shiro pretended to be absorbed in watching the flow of traffic for speeders, the radar speed gun at the ready. “I’m good.”

“Hmph.”

Usually Shiro found everything he did and learned as a police officer to be fascinating. Even the most mundane tasks held a spark of interest for him. But today, it just wasn’t happening. He knew that he was being more than a little ridiculous, mooning after his crush like some emo teenager. He couldn’t help it, though.

Shiro and Danny had been going to Alfor’s for months now, after a colleague had mentioned how wonderful their coffee had been. From day one, Shiro was hooked. Both on the coffee and the barista-owner. Allura had worn her hair up in a high bun that first day, and it highlighted the beautiful angles of her face and bright blue of her eyes. Shiro was sure Allura had caught him staring, and he had looked away from her, his cheeks on fire.

From then on out, whenever he happened to see her each day when they went back for coffee, it was just so easy to talk to her. They always had something to say to each other, whether it be Shiro talking about the crazy clown outfit a man had been wearing when they had pulled him over for a speeding ticket in a school zone or Allura talking about the puppy she had adopted. Danny usually wandered off purposely, busying himself at the coffee station so that Shiro had more time to speak to the lovely barista. Eventually, though, the appearance of a customer would end their conversation, and Allura would smile brightly at him and wave goodbye.

Shiro felt like an idiot for ever thinking he had a chance. Maybe he misread the way Allura mentioned at one point that she wasn’t seeing anyone, or the way that she asked Calysta to help a customer at the counter when Shiro was still there. Maybe the way she occasionally let their hands touch when she passed him his drink was something that just naturally happened as part of an exchange with everyone. Maybe he had imagined the weird look on her face when he had told her the story of how he and Janna had witnessed a very drunk man crouch down at the bar they were at, and slowly slump over so that his forehead was touching the dirty floor.

“Is Janna . . . your girlfriend?” Allura asked, brows furrowed.

“Oh. No.” Shiro had chuckled. “She was in my training class. All of us that graduated went out for drinks that night. I’m not seeing anyone.”

Maybe he imagined how Allura’s face had smoothed over into her serene smile again.

Truth be told, he had fallen hard for her, and never felt brave enough to say anything about it. It wasn’t like he was afraid she wouldn’t want to talk to him anymore if she turned him down. No, Allura was too kind for that. But maybe there would be a hint of sympathy in her eyes each time she saw him, and Shiro didn’t want to see that. So, for a long time, he let his feelings slide, content with their friendship.

That is, until Danny started letting strong hints drop here and there in front of Allura, strongly alluding to the state of Shiro’s feelings for her. After a handful of occasions with this happening, Shiro had had enough.

“Alright, alright, I’ll do something about it,” Shiro had said to a smirking Danny, once they were back in the car. “Just . . . stop with your nonsense.”

“Nonsense.” Danny scoffed. “Pot calling the kettle black, Shirogane.”

All of these memories swirled round and round in Shiro’s head, and he felt relieved when Danny finally directed their car to head back to the station. Though he didn’t really feel up to acting cheerful at the moment, at least it would serve as a distraction.

The decorations in the station were a little cheesy, but still held its own charm all the same. Shiro snacked on the fruit and cheese platters, and helped himself to some sparkling punch. Everyone around him was exchanging their Secret Santa gifts. He saw (and heard) Marcus laughing loudly at the ugly Christmas sweater Danny had gotten for him. Shiro brought his own gift out for Linda, a veteran cop of about 20 years. It was a cardboard cat scratcher in the shape of a space ship, and came with cat nip. Everybody knew how much she liked anything cats, and how she would shove her phone in anybody’s face, just to show the newest picture of her pets.

“Shiro!” she said, stars in her eyes. “Minnie and Leo are going to love this!”

“It had good reviews online,” Shiro said with a smile, happy to see that Linda enjoyed her gift.

“Here is _ your _ gift.” She handed him an envelope. Shiro was not that surprised that the two of them had drawn each other’s names for the gift exchange. As he opened the envelope, he noticed that Linda was turning over the cat scratcher in her hands, still excited about her present. But then he was taking out the cat-themed Christmas card, and reading the greeting on front. He flipped it open, eyes going wide at what was tucked inside.

And almost laughed at the irony of it.

In a pretty font that spelled out the name of the business, and decorated with cute coffee clip art, was a gift card to Alfor’s coffee house. He blinked a few times, mouth going dry, not sure what to say. After a long moment of silence, Shiro saw that Linda was watching him keenly.

“Do you not like it?” she asked, concerned. “Danny mentioned that you got coffee there frequently . . . “

“I do love their coffee,” Shiro said truthfully, pasting a smile on his face once more. “Thank you, Linda.”

“No problem. And hey, thanks for this.” She held up the cat scratcher triumphantly, and then started showing it off to a few of the other officers near her.

_ Bzz bzz _ .  _ Bzz bzz. Bzz bzz. _

Shiro took his cell phone out of his pocket. He was getting a phone call, but it was from a local number that he did not recognize. He answered it with a mixture of curiosity and uncertainty.

“H-Hello?”

“Shiro?”

Shiro stiffened. He would recognize that voice anywhere. “Allura?”

“Yes, hello. And Merry Christmas.” Her voice was as breezy and kind as always, but just now she sounded a bit nervous, too.

“Merry Christmas.” Shiro’s insides felt like they were performing an unending parade of cartwheels. “I take it you got your gift?”

“Yes, and thank you. It was lovely. I actually don’t have that volume. It will make a nice addition to my book collection.”

Shiro walked away from the party, taking a seat at a nearby desk. “You’re welcome. And I’m glad.”

There was an awkward silence over the line, and Shiro didn’t know what to do. It had never been like this between them before, and his mind raced with the need to  _ say something _ .

“Are you . . . not coming by today?” Allura asked, voice sounding a little down now. “I was looking forward to seeing you. My uncle is in town, and I wanted you to meet him. He came by yesterday and we went shopping. Calysta told me that you came by shortly after I left.”

Shiro’s mouth gaped open for a moment. “Your uncle? I thought . . .” he exhaled heavily. “I thought that was your boyfriend. Or a date.”

Allura’s laugh was a twinkle like stars in the night sky. “No. No no no. I don’t have a boyfriend still, and goodness knows I haven’t been on a date in such a long time. Though I was hoping . . .”

Shiro couldn’t breathe, so strongly was hope coursing through him now. He felt as if he should say something here, but the words wouldn’t come out.

“Shiro? Are you still there?”

“Yes, sorry. I’m still here.” He squeezed his eyes shut, horrified with himself.

“Would you like to go out to dinner sometime? When you’re free?” Allura asked suddenly, her words tumbling out.

“YES,” Shiro said a little too loudly, and he heard Allura laugh lightly on the other side. He smiled widely, his eyes bright. “Yes. I would like that very much.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful.” Allura sighed softly. “I’ve been wanting to ask you for ages now.”

Shiro was the one who laughed now. “I’ve been wanting to ask you, too.” He paused for a moment, before asking. “So is Alfor’s still open right now?”

“Yes, for another hour or so.” 

Twenty-eight seconds later, mid-story, Danny was dragged off to the side. “What is it?” he asked, alarmed to see Shiro clearly in the middle of some strong emotion.

“We need to go get coffee.”

Danny smiled, and didn't tease Shiro once the whole way to Alfor's.

* * *

**Hunk**  

Everything had been going so right. Hunk had been confident all day, looking forward to making Christmas dinner for Shay. His parents (and even his teenage sisters) had offered to help before they left for Aunt Claudine’s, but he had just waved them off. He had read the recipe through a few times already. And he had all the ingredients. So what could go wrong?

A lot, apparently.

For some reason, the spaghetti sauce was somehow way too watery, and it seemed to be missing in the flavor department. Though he had followed every step in the recipe book, which was now smeared over with sauce, it just hadn’t come out right. 

And then there was the spaghetti. He hadn’t been paying attention to the first batch very much, and the noodles had gotten overcooked. By a lot. The second batch had clumped together while he had been tasting his sauce and trying to figure out what was wrong with it. Now he was down to the last of what was left in the second box, and he still had to bake the pie . . . 

The pie!

He lunged at the pantry, taking out the can of pumpkin pie filling and almost dropping it on his foot. He should have had this in the oven already! Quickly, he opened the can and dumped it into a mixing bowl. Next, he hurriedly gathered the remaining ingredients and whisked them all together. Breathing just a little bit easier now, he opened the freezer door in order to retrieve the pie crusts he had bought yesterday at the store.

A minute’s frantic search revealed that there were no pie crusts in the freezer. Ten seconds more, he remembered, with a hollow feeling to his stomach, how his mother had called him yesterday just as he was about to go and get them.

Fuck. This couldn’t be happening.

Hunk thumped his head against the frame of his refrigerator a few times, feeling hopeless. It was all an utter disaster, and he didn’t see a way to salvage it.

But Christmas brings miracles to all, in various forms. For his phone dinged just then, and he recognized it as the notification for a text message. Resignedly, and wondering how he could even begin to salvage tonight, Hunk read the text he had received from Lance.

_ Hope everything's going alright with your dinner, buddy! _

Hunk needed to talk to someone. So he pressed the button to call his best friend, and on the second ring, Lance picked up.

“Hey man, what’s up?” In the background, Hunk could hear the sound of voices. Lance’s family must be over now, and Hunk hated to take him away from that, but he desperately needed the advice.

“Lance. It’s horrible, it’s all gone wrong.” He looked over his shoulder at the mess that was his kitchen, grimacing.

“Why? What happened?” So Hunk filled Lance in on his sauce and noodle woes, and how he had neglected to buy pie crusts at the store the previous day.

“I’ll be right there,” was all Lance said, and the line disconnected before Hunk could say otherwise.

Hunk paced around the kitchen, back and forth, back and forth. He just wanted to make this dinner perfect for Shay, because she had worked all day and most of yesterday. But it was all a mess, and what if she hated it and then hated him . . . ARGH!

There was the sound of the back door opening, and Hunk stopped in his tracks to watch as Lance let himself in. His friend lived just down the street, the distance of a few houses. They had grown up together, riding bikes during the summer, their knees full of bandaids when they were first learning how to rollerblade. They had gotten each other through more than a few scrapes and bruises along the way, and Hunk would be lying if he said he wasn’t relieved to see his friend. Lance always had a way of making everything seem like not a big deal, and turned it something that had Hunk laughing. Hunk, on the other hand, though pleasant and even-tempered most of the time, found it hard to dig himself out of a hole once he was in too deep.

Lance actually looked nice, dressed up in jeans and a sweater, his hair looking as if he had bothered to comb it for once. His mom had probably forced him to look respectable for their family’s Christmas party. But Hunk was too frustrated with himself to give it much thought. He could really use his best friend’s help here.

“Hunk!” Lance paused at the edge of the kitchen. “You look like a . . . mess.”

“Thanks,” Hunk said miserably, looking down to see his t-shirt covered in sauce stains.

“Anyways, I am here to save you.” Lance waved around a pack of two frozen pie crusts. “My mom always has extras of this kind of shit.”

“Thanks, dude,” Hunk said wearily, leaning against the counter. “I gotta get the pie situated right away.”

“Nah ah ah.” Lance shook his head. “You need to go upstairs and take a shower.” He gestured at Hunk’s t-shirt. “You’re all sweaty and gross. And Shay’s gonna be here when?”

“An hour. Probably a little before then.”

“Exactly. You don’t have the time to get all of this done and freshen up. I’ll take the helm here.” Lance lifted his chin in playful arrogance, crossing his arms across his chest.

“But--I--the sauce--”

“And now you’re arguing. Tick tock, Hunk. Tick tock.”

Hunk made a noise of frustration. He eyed his friend for a minute more, reluctance apparent in his expression. Hunk had wanted to make this dinner all by himself. But as he finally hurried past Lance and up to his room, he realized something. Life was all about the people who supported you, kept your course on a steady path forward. It didn’t always just have to be an individual effort. And though it was hard to give in, to let someone else help him with something he held dear and close to his heart, he found it easy to let go once he had made his decision. Though Lance was sometimes a pain in his ass, he was loyal to the core. If it ever came to it, Hunk knew Lance would sacrifice a lot to keep his friend happy. So even though he didn’t miss the smug expression on his Lance’s face as he passed him, Hunk knew he was in good hands, and could breathe easier.

The shower was nice and warm, and though Hunk hurried through it, concentrating on the water was effective in getting him to calm down. He quickly threw on a nice button-down shirt and a pair of khakis. As he started walking back down the stairs and towards the kitchen, he was amused to hear Christmas music playing and his friend’s bad singing. A quick sniff to the air revealed that his friend hadn’t burned anything in his absence.

“Ah, there you are!” Lance had the last of the spaghetti in two separate baking dishes, and was starting to pour a small amount of sauce over each. “Just about finished here. The recipe says just add the cheese on top and bake until golden brown.”

Lance leaned against the counter, smile wide, waiting to be congratulated. But Hunk went first for the sauce, tasting it for what must have been the twentieth time. 

It was delicious. The texture was smooth and thick, and the seasoning was perfect. Slowly, Hunk set the spoon down, wide-eyed as he looked at Lance.

“What did you do?” He shook his head slowly, marveling at his friend’s skill. “Dude, this is amazing.”

Lance chuckled. “You ever hear of tomato paste?” he said sarcastically, straightening his sweater. “Also, were you using teaspoons or tablespoons of the seasoning. Because the flavor profile was there, it just wasn’t enough.”

“The smaller one,” Hunk said distantly. “Was I reading the instructions wrong?”

Lance scoffed, lips turning up in a superior grin that Hunk knew oh-so-well from years with his best friend. “How are we even friends? How can you not cook?”

“Because we either order pizza or you make the food,” Hunk pointed out, spreading slices of parmesan cheese over the dishes of spaghetti.

“True.” A timer sounded, and Lance donned some floral-patterned oven mitts. He took the now-cooked pumpkin pie out of the oven, and Hunk saw that it was cooked perfectly. He smiled ruefully. Maybe next time, he could just get Lance to cook for both himself and Shay, and save himself some time and prevent himself from stressing out.

Hunk slid the dishes of spaghetti parmesan into the oven, and then set a new timer. He finally turned back to his friend. “Lance, thanks man. You kinda saved my ass here.”

“Kind of?” Lance scoffed. “You owe me big time. Like wingman-at-the-bar kind of owe me. Or let me copy off of your homework kind of owe me.”

Hunk rolled his eyes. “How about I’ll buy you a drink next time we’re out?”

Lance smiled. “Deal.”

Just then, there was the sound of a car in the driveway, and Hunk stiffened. Shay!

“She’s here, oh god, she’s here.” Hunk looked frantically around the kitchen, but it was now clean. Somehow, Lance had managed to take care of the dishes and wipe off the counter in his absence. He really did owe him one.

“Calm yourself, man.” Lance came forward, and wrapped him in a hug. “You’ve got this.”

“Thank you for everything, I mean it.” Hunk pulled back, and he hoped his words truly conveyed how grateful he was. “Merry Christmas.”

The doorbell rang, and Hunk watched as Lance snuck out the back door, a content smile on his face. “Merry Christmas, buddy.”

* * *

 

**Lance**

The night had turned frigid and windy, and Lance hugged his arms to his lanky frame, trying to keep warm. He jogged to the front of Hunk’s house, peeking around the corner to make sure Shay was inside. Once he was certain the coast was clear, Lance walked briskly to the sidewalk, and started to make his way toward his own house.

All around him, the houses were illuminated with the bright hues of Christmas lights. He let himself be absorbed into the flashes of yellow, green, blue, red. Even the clear white icicle lights were breathtaking. Lance forgot that he was cold, stunned into the feeling of Christmas. Of friends and family. Of community.

Next door to Hunk, two young boys were trying to fly a small drone despite the fact that the sun had set hours ago and their light was limited. But he remembered, just then, that he should never underestimate the power of childish enthusiasm. Their almost identical squeals of delight sounded loud and down the street, and for a moment, the two youngsters reminded him of Hunk and himself. For many Christmases during their childhood, the two of them had met up at some point after the opening of presents to show off their new toys. It had never been something that had been pre-arranged. They had simply just shown up at one house or the other. And Lance was glad to see that the camaraderie between friends wasn’t something had fizzled out in time. 

Because Christmas had a way of uniting people, bringing them back together again, despite the development in cell phones and the internet. Lance smiled as he walked past the two kids, one of which had managed to get his new drone off the ground. Christmas would always be Christmas. The years might come and go, but friends would still be friends.

Lance felt a buzzing in his pocket, and he took his phone out to see that he had received a couple of texts from Pidge and some other friends in the past hour or so that he had been at Hunk’s. His carroty-haired friend had sent him a selfie of herself and her brother, both of their smiles identical in every way. Lance studied it for a minute before texting her back some well-wishes and that maybe she should open her gift from him in private. Yeah, maybe he should have told her that earlier . . . 

He let himself in the back door of his house, happiness and warmth oozing from every corner. His aunts and uncles were busy drinking punch and snacking on some appetizers that his parents had no doubt spent too much time working on.

“Lance!” his mother hissed at him as he meandered through the kitchen. “Where have you been?”

Oh, that’s right. Maybe he should have said something before he left to help his friend in need.

“Ah, sorry mom.” Lance scratched his head distractedly. “Hunk needed my help with something.”

His mother’s eyes warmed instantly. Hunk was like one of her own sons, though Lance was often indignant over the fact that she was  _ nowhere _ near as hard on him as she was with Lance. 

“Is he okay? Did he change his mind and wants to come over for dinner?” 

“No, Shay is still coming over and his dinner turned out alright.” Lance moved on, trying to edge his way out of the kitchen before his mother set him up for something unpleasant.

“ _ Lance _ ,” she called to him knowingly.

“Yeah?” He tried to look innocent.

“Your Aunt Thea wishes to have a word with you.” Lance watched as his mother checked on the progress of the ham in the oven. “Better take care of it now. You know how she gets when she’s had too much to drink.”

Lance sighed. His mother was right. She smiled softly at him, understanding the discomfort he was soon to be feeling. But with a nod of his head to show that he understood what his mother was saying, he turned to leave the kitchen. But ah, there were brownies that were on the counter, not to be served until later as part of the dessert. Thinking he was due some kind of reward, Lance swiped one from the platter when he thought his mother wouldn’t see.

“I saw that, Lance.”

No regrets. He stuffed it in his mouth.

“Honey?” 

“Hmmm?” Lance turned around, still trying to swallow his stolen brownie.

“You know you’re wonderful, right? And that your father and I are  _ very _ proud of you?”

Lance smiled. Of course he did. “Yeah, mom. I do.”

He turned away then, feeling stronger than he had before. In front of him now, the living room was teeming with activity. There was his dad, laughing with Lance’s fraternal grandparents, heading back to the kitchen. Lance’s older sister, Gloria, was in the corner talking quietly with her new boyfriend, and it seemed as if he were a little on the shy side. Lance made a point to circle around to them later, maybe embarrass the guy into easing up a little on the awkwardness. His family was good people. Lance’s younger siblings, the twins, were playing with a trio of their cousins, lost in the world of Star Wars figurines. And then Lance finally saw her. His father’s oldest sister, his Aunt Thea.

Aunt Thea was probably his least favorite member of all of his extended family. She was very demanding with her own children, and didn’t ease up when it came to her nieces and nephews. Gloria was her pride and joy, and Aunt Thea constantly tried to compare her accomplishments with the piano and new job as a teacher to the rest of the family. The twins were even a bright light in her view. Though they were rambunctious, they were young geniuses at baseball and his aunt never let it escape his notice that  _ Lance _ never excelled in any sport, and never stood out in particular at all.

He took a deep breath, readying himself for whatever tirade he was soon to experience. “Hello, Aunt Thea.”

She turned around, a smile of sorts on her face. “Why look, it’s Lance. Finally decided to grace us with your presence?”

Lance saw Gloria eyeing him from across the room. Almost imperceptibly, she shook her head, as if to discourage him from voicing any disparaging remarks. His sister knew all too well the hurtful words that Aunt Thea put him through, and on more than one occasion, had rescued him from the conversation when she saw he was about to lose his temper.

“Yup,” Lance finally said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “How are you?”

“I’m just fine, waiting over here for someone to talk to me. Your mother didn’t need my help in the kitchen, she was very dismissive about it.”

Lance could stand a lot of barbs thrown his way, but he wouldn’t put up with rude remarks made about his own family. His eyes narrowed a bit as he regarded his aunt. “My mother has the kitchen under control, Aunt Thea. I’m sure she would ask for help if she needed it.”

“Hmph.” Aunt Thea eyed him over the rim of her plastic cup. She was silent for a moment before continuing. “How were your grades this semester? I hope they were better than your second year of college.”

Lane puffed up a little, proud of his efforts and the results. “I got straight A’s,” he said evenly.

“But were you the top in your classes?”

And there it was. The reason why he felt deflated at seeing his 97, and second to Keith in one of their shared classes. Because it hadn’t been good enough, at the time.

Throughout high school, his parents had stressed the importance of good grades and studying. He had worked his ass off, and was in the top ten of his class. But Aunt Thea had almost sneered at him at graduation. “Could have been valedictorian,” she muttered. And Lance had heard.

His parents had been happy with his achievements though, and proud of his hard work in college. But every time Aunt Thea came over, she had something else to say to Lance. No matter how many times his parents reproached her for the words that came out of her mouth. And every time, he just kind of took it, believing that she was right. It was like a mantra in his head. Not enough not enough not enough not enough not enough. It poisoned his appreciation of his classes, and hurt his self-confidence when he didn’t get a perfect grade.

But things had changed, in the span of a day.

“No, not the top in all of my classes,” he said easily. “But my friend was. We’re going to study together some time. And as long as I get straight A’s, I don’t care if he beats me by a point or two here and there. Just as long as I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished.”

With that, he walked away, wrapping his grandparents in a tight hug. He didn’t look back to see the flabbergasted look on his aunt’s face, though Gloria told him about it later, between laughs. 

It was just as his mother announced that dinner was ready that Lance felt a vibration in his pocket. He unlocked his phone to see that he had a text from Keith. Reading it over quickly, Lance smiled and quickly sent off a response to his friend.

 

* * *

 

**Keith**

The dinner table was decorated beautifully, as always. There were deep crimson linen napkins on the table, and the best dinner china was out, the kind they only used for holidays and very special occasions. Keith’s parents were finishing up dinner preparations in the kitchen while Keith poured out glasses of wine. Having turned 21 this year, he was finally of legal age to indulge . . . in front of his parents.

“I’m home!”

Shiro’s cheerful voice preceded him into the dining room, and he tugged his brother into a hug, and then moved into the kitchen to do the same with his parents.

“Takashi, I’m so glad you’re home,” Mrs. Shirogane said softly. “It’s not Christmas without both of my sons home.”

Keith felt his heart swell with love and affection for his family. He wondered, not for the first time, how he managed to be so lucky as to be the one the Shiroganes had decided to adopt. 

“You finished in here?” Shiro asked, striding back into the dining room carrying a platter of carved ham and interrupting his brief reverie. “Or just waiting for me to come home and do all of the work?”

Keith just gave him  _ the look _ , the one that spoke volumes and told Shiro that he wasn’t going to put up with his shenanigans. Shiro just laughed, radiating nothing but happiness, so much so that Keith knew that he must’ve had a good outcome with the gift he had gotten for his “friend.”

Dinner was a quiet affair, but happy. The Shiroganes were a reserved couple, but were fiercely proud of their sons’ accomplishments. They never let their sons settle for what was easy, but instead instilled in them the quiet motivation to want and try for more. Both Mr. and Mrs. Shirogane were the type of parents who never had to raise their voice when discussing the consequences of Keith’s or Shiro’s actions, and their sons never tried to argue the punishments that had been handed out to them as children. 

  
Shiro was asked about his work, and he talked about the Christmas party for a while, and how Linda liked the gift had given her. He went on to explain how everything she did seemed to revolve aroun d cats--the wallpaper on both her phone and computer, the pattern on her travel mug, her socks. Keith and his parents got a good laugh out of that, before he remembered to ask what Shiro had gotten.

“Oh,” Shiro said slowly, blinking a few times. “Linda gave me a gift card to a coffee shop.” He glanced over at Keith, and Keith could tell that Shiro wasn’t ready to talk about this with their parents. “Danny and I go there often for coffee in the mornings.”

“How nice,” Mr. Shirogane commented. “It seemed she did a good bit of investigating to see what you would like.”

“I believe so,” Shiro said thoughtfully. He looked down at his plate, but not before Keith saw his mouth move into a wide smile, his cheeks flushing a light red color.

After dinner, Shiro and Keith washed the dishes while their parents settled into the living room. Looking around to make sure their parents were out of earshot, Keith asked, “So how did it go today, huh? Your friend like her gift?”

Shiro flushed again, but tried to hide it as he shut the dishwasher and started its cleaning cycle. “Yeah, I guess you could say that,” he said evasively, but smiling widely again.

Keith elbowed him in the side as he dried off a heavy platter. “Out with it, Shirogane.”

Shiro kept busy with washing the dishes and handing them off to Keith to rinse and dry. “It actually started off bad yesterday,” he admitted, telling Keith the story of Allura walking around with the man he now knew to be her uncle. 

“You’re a dumbass,” Keith said affectionately. “You should have said something long ago.”

“I know,” Shiro said quietly. He paused for a moment. “But she called me today, and asked me out.”

“What?!” Keith exclaimed, dropping his kitchen towel.

“Shhhh,” Shiro said in warning, checking to make sure their parents weren’t coming by. Satisfied, he briefly explained the events that had transpired earlier that day. Keith just shook his head. 

“How blind can you be?” he asked in amazement.

“Pretty blind, I guess.” Shiro shrugged. 

“So when are you bringing her by for dinner?” Keith asked teasingly. Shiro cupped some soap bubbles in his hand and rubbed them on Keith’s hair. “Ew! Gross!” Shiro just laughed.

“By the way, I wanted to ask,” Shiro questioned, his voice a little quieter than before.

“Yeah? What?”

“The other day, you were . . . upset. Is everything okay now?”

Oh.

Keith looked at the towel in his hands. “How did you know I was upset?”

Now it was Shiro’s turn to look at him with his version of  _ the look _ . Though it wasn’t nearly as sarcastic as Keith’s version. “Keith, give me some credit. You aren’t very good at masking that kind of thing.”

“I see.” Keith thought for a moment about that but then smiled. “Yeah, everything is okay now.”

“You want to talk about it?” Shiro questioned, draining the sink of the now-dirty water.

Keith shook his head. “Nah, it’s fine. Besides, I made a new friend. He, uh, he helped me to figure things out.”

“Really.” Shiro looked at him in surprise. “That’s good to hear, brother.” Then with a teasing glint in his eye, he continued with, “Keep that up, and you’ll be Mr. Congeniality at school.”

“Shut up, Shiro.”

They moved into the living room shortly after that to open up Christmas gifts. Shiro nominated Keith as the person to hand out gifts, and their parents seconded it. Keith glared at his brother, but it was devoid of any animosity. 

The Shiroganes liked the practical and useful gifts their sons had given them, and thanked them both graciously. In turn, both Keith and Shiro got gifts of the usual kind. Among them, and just as he predicted were the usual socks and underwear, the batteries, and a new desk lamp. But Keith had also received a more expansive set of tools from his parents. He looked at them in shock.

“Shiro told us that you wanted to work on your motorcycle, possibly make some modifications.” Mr. Shirogane gestured at the tools that Keith held in his hands. “I hope those are useful for that process.”

“Thank you so much!” Keith got up and embraced both of his parents quickly, before returning to his seat on the floor. Shiro was watching him with a fond smile.

Next, Keith opened up the gift that Shiro had given him. It was in a large, rectangular, box. He looked at Shiro for a few seconds, trying to get a hint as to what it might be. But Shiro merely grinned at him. “Well, open it up!”

Keith didn’t need to be told twice. He tore off the paper to find a garment box underneath. Not even hesitating, he opened it up and his eyes went wide.

_ Whoa _ .

It was a red and white leather riding jacket that he had been ogling for months now. And tucked into the side was a pair of fingerless gloves. Reverently, he took the jacket out of the box and held it up in front of him.

“Shiro . . . “ he murmured. “This is--this is--wow. I love it. Thank you.”

“Why don’t you try it on, Keith?” Mr. Shirogane asked.

“Yeah, try it on!” Shiro urged, still grinning.

Keith stood and unzipped the jacket carefully, handling the leather carefully. Slowly, he shrugged it on and then turned to his family. “How does it look?” 

“You look wonderful,” Mrs. Shirogane said, a soft smile on her face. “It matches your motorcycle, I believe?”

“It does.” Keith took it off slowly and folded it carefully. But he kept it in his lap. “Your turn,” he said to Shiro, gesturing towards the last gift that remained under the tree.

Keith had received a printout of the package he had purchased at iFly for Shiro. He had found a small box and set the folded printout inside. The wrapped gift weighed next to nothing, and Keith saw a wry smile cross Shiro’s face.

“Is there anything in here?” Shiro asked, shaking the box.

“Just open it!”

Shiro did. His long fingers slowly tore the wrapping paper, in contrast to Keith who had carelessly ripped through his like a cyclone. He opened the box and took out the paper inside. For a brief moment, Shiro was quiet as he read the contents on the paper. Keith began to feel nervous that Shiro wasn’t going to like it, and he even dug his fingernails into his palms. But then Shiro’s eyes widened in realization, his mouth dropping open in surprise.

“We’re going skydiving? Indoor skydiving?” he asked, incredulous.

“Yeah!”

“Ahhh!” Shiro lunged at his brother, his arms pulling him tight into a hug. “That’s so cool!”

Keith hugged him back, his body relaxing with the release of worry. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Like it? I love it!” Shiro pulled back and sat on the floor. “I’ve been trying to think of things we could do together besides ride our bikes, but wow, you beat me to it. This is great.”

While Shiro explained to his parents what indoor skydiving entailed (and they were relieved to hear that their sons were not going to launch themselves out of a plane), Keith studied his brother. He hadn’t seen Shiro this animated in a long time, for work often kept him busy. He felt emboldened that Shiro liked the gift he had given him, the gift Lance had helped him pick out. 

Remembering his new friend, Keith quickly took his phone out of his pocket and sent a quick text to Lance.

_ Shiro loved it. Thank you so much _ .

He didn’t even have to put his phone away, because he saw that Lance was typing in a response.

_ Glad to hear it. Now you get to put up with me as your study partner. _

Keith grinned.  _ You better keep up with my pace, buddy. _

He received another quick reply.  _ HAH! You better keep up with ME. Merry Christmas. _

Keith breathed out, at peace with the world. 

_ Merry Christmas. _

  
  
  


 

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays to everyone!


End file.
